A World Apart
by always.maddi
Summary: A sad, bittersweet lovestory of a werewolf and a squib.
1. Chapter 1

She was beautiful in every way. She never believed it.

She had the respect of everybody. She thought everybody hated her.

She was one of the strongest people I knew. She thought she was weak.

She cared about everyone. She hated herself.

She thought she was evil. She was like an angel.

She could never be replaced. She thought she was forgettable.

I loved her. I would do anything for her.

So why did she do this?

Why is she dead?

I am Remus, she was Ashleigh, and this is our story.

* * *

What do you think? Should I continue? My first fanfic, so please be nice.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own HP, JKR does. I suck at writing and don't know why I am bothering to continue this, because I'll be dead by the end of the week. But oh well.

Read and Review, if you want.

Always.

* * *

I was a failure. My family didn't want me. What pureblood family would want a worthless squib?

They had kept me sequestered away in a room with only house elves for company. It was comfortable, and I had anything I wanted – except for friendship.

I left as soon as I turned 17. My family had probably forgotten about me, casting me out of their minds never to be spoken about again. And why shouldn't they? I was a disappointment.

On my legs were 24 deep, puckered scars. One for every year I had inhabited this world. And today I would be adding another one. These cuts were the most special. Unlike the ones on my arms which were added to every other day, these were a reminder of my failings. Of my failure.

I watched fascinated as the blood started to flow down my leg. After about five minutes I bandaged it up and cleaned the mess.

Sighing, I checked my food supply. I didn't eat very often but I did need food. I was down to one can of baked beans (why did I even have those – I hated baked beans) and some sour milk. I guess I should go grocery shopping. Joy.

There was a new person working at the checkout. He had light brown hair and tired eyes. He looked thin and had the appearance of a person who was often ill. But he looked determined. When he was serving me I absently took note of his name – Remus Lupin. He was soft spoken and tried to make conversation with me, but I don't talk much so he only got one word answers.

As I was leaving he gave me a smile and asked if he might see me sometime. Shocked, I unthinkingly agreed. He asked for my number and I hesitantly gave it to him.

What was I getting myself into? I was no good for him. I was a burden on society, and I would be dead soon anyway. I didn't need anybody trying to get between me and my death.

But his eyes... they were so pleading, and he seemed as if I could tell him anything and he would understand.

This was not going to end well.


	3. Chapter 3

It's not mine. Last chapter, even though it isn't finished, because I don't think I'll have another one ready by tomorrow. And after tomorrow, I'll be dead.

* * *

To leave a letter or not? It's not as though there would be anybody who cared to read it, and there was so much I couldn't say in case it fell into the hands of a muggle. I don't know what to put in it anyway. I mean, what was there to say? I had nobody to say 'goodbye' to, nobody that I loved to let them know it wasn't their fault.

I lifted a hand up and ran it through my dark hair. It was disgustingly oily. I would wash it, but...

Well, the dead don't need clean hair.

I decided to write a note.

_To whoever finds me._

_I'm sorry I put you through the trauma of finding a dead body. If I felt I had any other viable option I wouldn't do this. This is the only way out. _

_I tried to do it the cleanest way, so hopefully it isn't too messy._

_I have no living family member, and no friends. I don't care what happens to my body._

_Goodbye for the final time._

_Lacaille Malfoy._

That would do, I guess.

I looked at my collection of pills and potions, all sequestered away for this very moment. Many of the potions I had stolen from my family, when I was still living with them. The pills had been purchased from various pharmacies over many years.

I wasn't afraid.

The phone rang. I ignored it.

I selected a potion, but then realised that muggle authorities might find that suspicious.

I placed all of my magical paraphernalia in a box which I threw into the incinerator chute (yes, amazingly, my apartment block did have one of those).

It would have to be pills.

I gave up trying to decide which ones and just how many and decided to just take them all.

The phone rang. Again.

I ignored it. Again.

It kept ringing. It was an unknown number.

I still ignored it.

I took the pills. One at a time.

The phone kept ringing.

The world started to spin, so I sat on the couch. Everything went blurry. I heard frantic knocking at the door, and my name being called frantically.

They couldn't get in easily, and by the time they did it would be too late.

I drifted off towards death.

* * *

Goodbye.


End file.
